My Running Dream
by wordswithwind
Summary: "I've had two dreams in my life-become friends with Jessica Carlisle and run. But neither of these dreams will ever come true." Little does Rosa know that both of these dreams will be made a reality. Rosa and Jessica's POV, takes place before and during The Running Dream by Wendelin Van Draanen, rated K


Title: My Running Dream

By: wordswithwind

Setting: This story will be told in Rosa's and Jessica's POV and takes place before and during The Running Dream.

_Enjoy!_

* * *

ROSA-

**Longing**

FOR AS LONG as I can remember I've been watching her run. I wake up. I think, "Jessica." I awkwardly swing myself out of bed and grab my crutches, hobbling over to the window. I watch. I wait. And then she comes.

Her long, brown ponytail waves furiously in the wind, in the sweet-as-honey air. I imagine for a moment that it's waving at me. Sweat pours down her face, pasting her hair to her forehead. The look on her face could be described as intense. But it's more than that. It's jubilation, pure and simple.

A dog runs at her side. His strides are as long and sure as hers. His tongue is lolling out of his mouth; his ears are laid back. I watch Jessica's legs move in a fluid, easy motion. So free. So beautiful.

For a split second I think of doing it: hurrying to the door, wrenching it open. Calling out to her. Saying "Hello, Jessica!" Or better yet- "Hey, Jess!" I vividly see her turn, her wide, inviting white-toothed smile raining happiness into me. I imagine her talking to me, a firework I wish I could touch. She explodes across my brain in gallant streaks of color, her noise deadens my ears. I sit there in shock, memorizing the motion of her smooth, tan limbs.

And then she slides out of view. The inside of my head is black. I looked down at my useless, thin legs, legs that will never know the power of running. I am wrecked; I am wrecked. I am a child who badly wants a piece of candy simply because her mother does not want her to have it. I don't know why I want it. I don't know why it's so great. But I see _her_, running, and _know_ it must be great. And a pang of jealously sears me as sharply as a knife cutting my bones. I just _want_. Ever since I saw Jessica I've had two dreams in my life-become friends with Jessica Carlisle and run. But neither of these dreams will ever come true.

My mother enters the room and seeing me staring morosely out the window. "Honey," she says, carefully. "What's wrong?"

I sigh, and immediately hate myself. Doesn't my mother worry about me every day? Who am I to add to her anxiety? What kind of person am I?

I force a smile to my lips. "Fine, mom. Just...tired." I give a common excuse.

She nods. "What do you want for breakfast? Eggs, cereal, omelette, pancakes, toast…"

"Pancakes," I say absently. Pancakes smell good. They're warm and flat and doughy. They're comfort.

As she readies the pancakes, I find my lips moving without my violation. "Mom...I think I want to run."

My mom shoots a glance at me, flipping a sizzling pancake. "Sweetheart, what did you say?"

Something like a blush is steaming over my cheeks. I bite my lips. "Um...never mind."

I go back to staring out the window.

And know, in my heart, the absolute truth:

Running, for me, is a dream.

* * *

_ROSA-_

**School**

GETTING TO SCHOOL is a challenge. Worst of all: there's no benefits.

If you think people talk to me, you must be either stupid or have a really good school or naturally expect the best of everyone. And you would also be wrong. No one talks to me. No one says hello, even. Just lowered eyes and turned heads and conversations rapidly carried on with a comrade. Hands shoved deep into pockets. Footsteps moving in what they think is a discreet way-but it's not-to the other side of the hallway. Gum energetically chewed to fill up a hollow silence.

I raise my head, and, after a while, learn not to expect anything more from them than that. It's easier. Less disappointment.

Even Jessica doesn't notice me, and I try to act like it doesn't bother me. I never see her anyways, expect in the hallways occasionally or in math. After all, she's a junior. I should be glad I'm smart enough to have at least math with her. But I could be on the other side of the world for all she notices me.

I watch her every day as she moves with easy agility into the room, swinging into her chair with ease. A blond girl with a bright smile calls to her. Her friend, Fiona. "Are you going to track practice?"

"Of course," Jessica says, rolling her eyes.

Fiona grins back. "Can't miss Kyro's little surprise!"

"Oh, c'mon, Fiona, we already what it is."

Fiona winks. "And he thinks he's so secretive…"

I sit there, small and invisible at the back of the room, at my table, in my wheelchair. The table is big. Two more kids could sit beside me, if they wanted.

But of course they don't.

I have my own private island, small and indistinguishable in a seething sea of hate that surrounds me. Listening to Jessica's conversation only reminds me how remote and far away I am from them. Their life. Their running. I have listened to thousands of conversations I don't understand, but this one frustrates me more than most. I think _Who is Kyro? What is his surprise? How come you know about it already?_

Ms. Rucker enters the room, and everyone turns to the front of the classroom and falls silent. I know I will never find the answers to my questions. I get out my math homework and stare down at my unsteady, uneven script. Inside, I know every answer is right. Not that it matters.

* * *

_JESSICA-_

**The Announcement**

AFTER SCHOOL, Fiona and I head to Kyro's portable classroom. We laugh and joke all the way, meeting up with other track people as we go along. After Fiona and I say hi to Annie and Giszelda, I have the strangest feeling. Like someone's looking at me. But when I turn around, all I see is a small girl in a wheelchair, quickly moving away from me.

We gather in an excited huddle around Kyro, eager and expectant. He stands there holding a clipboard. When he clears his throat the nervous chatter dies down, but people are still fidgeting quietly.

"So," Kyro says. "I have a feeling you already know what the surprise is, but for those who don't, I'm going to inform you." He smiles at us. "We're having an invitational meet at Langston High."

The crowd of pony-tailed girls erupts in cheers. Fiona turns seriously to me and we exchange a look. She doesn't need to say anything. I already know what she's thinking. _Vanessa Steele's going to be there. _My heart is elastic, vibrating with the challenge. I feel as though I'm there at the race. Tense. Ready. Vanessa and I had had a few skirmishes in the past, but I won't let that hurt me now. Her tilted head, superior smile. Ruby-red nails. Her loud, self-confident voice echoes through my head. I feel myself tense up with hate, remembering that day...

_God, Jessica, I saw you trip. You almost _fell. _Jesus. I don't even know why you _try _to beat me. You're hopeless._

_I purse my lips. I'm trembling with sweat and rage. I raise my eyes to her glittery green glasses. The sun glints off them. They fragment my vision. I see spots. Are they from anger?_

_I punch her glasses. They fall and break on the ground. This is not enough. They need to be in pieces. _Vanessa _needs to be in pieces. I raise my cleet-clad foot and slam it down on the glasses, grinding them into the dirt._

_Vanessa screams. "She broke my glasses! She broke my glasses! She broke my fifty-dollar glasses!" Her voice is high-pitched and whiny._

_She is such a jerk._

I am broken from my reverie with a sharp jab in the shoulder from Fiona. "Kyro's talking to you." She motions at Kyro, who's staring at me a little impatiently. "Jessica, you will be doing the four hundred meter run."

Mmmhmm. I know that.

He moves on. When he gets to the end of the names, those who weren't good enough at their respective events wilt in shame. They won't be going to the meet. Only Merryl seems happy. She grins widely and heads off, all too happy to be escaping track. I don't know why she came at all to this meeting. She's only in high jump and she's _terrible. _Worse than her meager 4'6 in high jump is her whining. It's so grating. I continue to complain about Merryl in my head, glad that she keeps me from thinking about Vanessa and the nerves which have suddenly caught up with me.

As we are leaving, Kyro places a hand on my shoulder. "You can't afford to lose it again, Jess," he says. I know what he means. I think of the glasses. "I believe you are physically ready for this, but I'm not sure about mentally. Remind yourself she is just a girl who wants attention. And you must be ready to steal it from her."

I nod. I think about breaking my 55.65 second PR.

Three weeks. Three weeks until the meet.

I'm pumped.

* * *

ROSA-

**The Knowledge**

It's an ordinary fall evening. My mom's washing dishes at the sink; I'm sitting slouched at the couch, watching the news without seeing it, dreaming of the sushi my mom says she's going to buy me tomorrow at the store. I think of the flavors, the types, ones with vegetables and rice and seafood, and my mouth is beginning to water, even though I've just eaten dinner...

_And now, a tragic accident on Fuller Street. Liberty High's track team, on their way home from a meet..."_

Tomorrow, my mom and I will sit at the small restaurant that adjoins the store, eating lunch after some grocery shopping. I'll be eating my sushi, and she'll have her favorite eggroll...

_...is hit by a truck __manned by Jim Lowe. The truck was hauling a load of wrecked cars to a junkyard when he missed a turn, fell off the side of the road..._

And I'll drink my fruit punch that I get every time at the soda machine, and she'll drink her coffee...

_...slid down an embankment, and crashed right into the high school track team's bus. One of the track team's girls, Lucy Sanders, was killed in the accident. Another of the girls, Jessica Carlisle, lost half her leg..._

I sit bolt upright, all lazy thoughts of tomorrow's luncheon gone. Did I hear Jessica's name? I scan the TV screen, for the first time registering the images, the wrecked school bus and truck, the damaged families, crying...and a picture of Jessica and her family, not from the accident, but from a family vacation. I soak in the image-her father, insanely tall with a perfect white-toothed smile, her mother, short with a shy grin, her sister, practically bursting with joy, the phone in her pocket evidence of her tween-hood, and finally Jessica herself, the brightest and happiest of them all, neon-orange running shoes, neon-green running shorts, and a shirt that proclaims LIBERTY HIGH CROSS COUNTRY marking her as a runner, her long blond hair kept back with an Under-Armour headband. They stand in a half circle, arms draped over each other in perfect family kinship, a large body of water filling the background. Jessica holds my eyes. I stare at her long, tan legs, legs that are capable of running impossibly fast, legs that I will never have.

I stare at her right leg.

According to the news caster, Marla Sumner, it's gone. All the way up to the knee.

I don't believe it.

Tomorrow, when I look outside, Jessica will be there, as always, running.

* * *

ROSA-

**The Truth**

That morning when I get up, I'm more impatient than usual to get downstairs to breakfast, more than usual annoyed with my too-slow limbs, and I don't realize that I was holding my breath until I get down to the kitchen, when I let it loose in a huge sigh. I wheel over to the window and stare intently, waiting for Jessica to show up.

She doesn't.

I wait, five, ten, fifteen minutes-nothing. Twenty minutes-nothing. Thirty-still nothing. Finally I give up, disbelieving. She never misses a run. Never. Not unless there's an emergency.

Then it hits me: the accident. Jessica's leg. It can't be true, maybe there's another Jessica Carlisle, maybe another school, another town...

But in my heart I know it's not true.

And the worst thing is: I don't mind. The only emotion that surfaces is one of excitement. The wide gulf that separated her and me is narrowed. She may still be popular, she may still have no speaking problems like me, she may still be a part of school life the way I can never be. But she, like me, now has difficulty in walking. She probably won't be able to run again. And that means that suddenly she and I are connected in a way I never would have anticipated. Joy shoots through me. It's only after a moment that guilt catches up and I feel sad for her, sad that she's not running today, that maybe she never will again.


End file.
